Riot In His Heart
by Feilyn
Summary: Written for 30Kisses on lj. Matsumoto Rangiku is a one woman riot, and she's got her sights set high on the impenetrable fortress of Kuchiki Byakuya's heart. He has always been off limits, but Rangiku never played by the rules.
1. A Pillow For Her Lilac

**Title: **A Pillow For Her Lilac (a very bad play on a pillow for his head)

**Prompt: **Eta list, No. 01, Lilac

**Summary: **Yesterday was Ran's birthday, and her lover was nowhere to be found. She's not happy.

xXx

There was a lilac on her pillow, and Rangiku wasn't sure how it had got there.

Slowly, she looked around the room. The vice-captain of the Tenth Division was a barracks girl, so there wasn't really much to look at.

Puddle of blankets on the floor. Nothing strange there.

Piles of presents – well, it had been her birthday the day before.

As lieutenant, Rangiku had a little more room, enough for a wardrobe instead of the little dresser the rest of the barracks-dwellers were supplied with.

She threw open the wardrobe door. "Hah! Oh…"

No one there.

Her door was locked, but plenty of people had the key. Pouting, she mentally ran through a list of those people as she picked the lilac up. There really was only one person it could have come from, but he wasn't even in the Seireitei.

And he was a bastard. Even if he could have, he wouldn't.

Rangiku's eyes slid over the blankets again and sighed. She'd slept alone, once again. The lilac slipped from her fingers and she frowned, bending over to pick it up. When she stood again, someone else was in the room.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Most people buy me chrysanthemums," she remarked, not turning around.

"I am not most people."

"So I've noticed. Sure I hate the flowers, but most people who buy me chrysanthemums also show up to my birthday party. Most people who buy me chrysanthemums also don't make me stay up well into the night waiting."

"Rangiku—"

She whirled around and tossed the lilac at him. He caught it impassively. "You _said _you'd be there! Damn it, Byakuya, I am so sick of this!"

"Come with me." The head of the Kuchiki family looked entirely unrepentant.

Rangiku blinked, taken aback and glared at him, hands on hips. "You're a bastard."

"So you have said. Often," he added. "I wish to show you something. Come with me."

The glare morphed into her trademark pout. "You are _so_ irritating."

"You've said that often also. And yet." He offered her his arm.

She batted it away, as she always did . "And yet. Kami knows you don't deserve me." She tossed her hair a little.

He gave her a rare smile, a mere quirk of the lips that conveyed so much. "Indeed."

xXx

There was a small shack on the edge of the Rukongai, the run down structure that was Rangiku's childhood home.

Back then, it had been a luxury. Hell, back then _living_ had been a luxury. Everything else was just a bonus.

She visited it once a year on her birthday, the birthday that Gin had given her. Except for this year – this year she had been waiting for Byakuya.

"I had hoped to show it to you yesterday," he murmured. "But they had not quite bloomed properly."

There were lilacs. Everywhere. They battled with the shack, threatening to overtake it from the inside and out.

It had lain barren for so long. How on earth had Byakuya known how much she wished to see life there again?

Rangiku fell back against his chest, grabbing his wrists and drawing his arms about her like a cloak.

"You're still a bastard."

He pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"I know."


	2. Moving On

_Right then! The prompt for this one was __**Snapshot**__, which immediately brought Hisana's shrine to mind. So, here we go!_

_xXx_

Byakuya looks at her face, small and delicate with wide, frightened eyes. So like Rukia's yet so unlike.

"I am sorry," he murmurs.

There is so much to apologise for that he's not exactly sure which mistake he's referring to. All of them, perhaps.

The face does not reply, but that is alright. He didn't really expect it to.

"I never hoped to love after you," he continues. It is safe to speak here, alone with her face as he is. "I had no wish to."

A small smile crosses his lips at the thought of sparkling crystal eyes.

"I suppose my wishes are the last thing on her mind, though."

"Oh, I don't know about that," a rich voice teases from behind him. Arms with the strength to snap a man's neck encircle him and a kiss is pressed into the side of his neck. "Second to last, maybe. Third if there's a lot of paperwork."

"I had said I wished to be alone."

He feels her smile. "There's that word again. Wish. And a fat lot of good it does, telling everybody that and then not saying where you would be. I just came here to say hello to Hisana."

Byakuya knew of several women from whom, had they said the same thing, he would have immediately suspected malicious intent. However, this was Matsumoto Rangiku and while she could be deadly, malicious was not a word ever used to describe her.

She had a great respect for the dead, he knew and could quite happily sit next to a headstone and chat at it for hours. He'd caught her speaking of him to Hisana's shrine more than once.

A head popped into his line of vision and large blue eyes blinked at him. "Would you like me to leave, Byakuya?"

Worse than the internal battle between his duty to his family and his love for this fiery woman had been the internal battle between that love and his first. Half a century is a long time for anyone to brood, even a man who would quite possibly live for millennia.

He still loves Hisana, but the thing about Rangiku is that she understands that and doesn't care. She has taught him that moving on does not mean forgetting and that loving again is not a betrayal of his wife's memory.

Gently, Byakuya disengages Rangiku's arms from his waist and takes a hold of her hand, pulling her to his side. Startled, she blinks up at him.

He turns his face back to the snapshot of Hisana. "By all means. Stay."


	3. Mirror :The Same But Not:

_This is an AU of The Stage. _

_**SPOILERS FOR THE STAGE BELOW**_

_Just imagine that Byakuya didn't tell his family, didn't ask Ran to live with him. This is the resulting awkwardness directly after Ichigo's death ._

_**End spoilers**_

_And I believe I have nothing else to save except:_

_**Title:**__ Mirror (The Same But Not)_

_**Prompt:**__ The Speed of Dark (or something like that)_

xXx

"Fukutaichō—"

"Don't call me that," I snapped.

A pause that constituted a sigh for him. "Rangiku—"

I whipped around to face the impassive look he was wearing. He made me want to _hit_ him. "Don't call me that either!"

He raised an eyebrow and I nearly did hit him. Damn him for being able to look so smugly superior with just one eyebrow.

I dropped myself to the ground, ignoring how the sand started to work itself into my clothes. "I'm staying here."

"You can't stay here."

"Why not?"

We glared at each other while he tried to formulate a response. Or rather, I glared and he stared impassively.

_Damn_ him.

"It will be dark soon. The sun sets quickly in the desert."

"I know that."

"So you can not stay here."

"Well where do you suggest I _go_, Byakuya? In case you hadn't noticed, we're in the middle of a _desert_."

And damn Shunsui as well. I _knew_ I shouldn't have let him open the senkaimon, but he was so oddly insistent and instead of ending up in Karakura Town to help out with the total inundation of Hollow there, (Kurosaki Ichigo is meant to _warn_ us before he goes on holiday! Or dies, as it were) we were, as I'd said, _in the middle of the desert._

It was bad enough that I had to go with Byakuya in the first place. Honestly. Didn't whoever put these missions together _know_ you're not meant to partner up people with personal issues? About each other?

"If we were to shūnpo—"

"Because I could keep _up_ with you," I snarked.

He did that impassive thing with his face again and the next thing I knew he had picked – me – up.

I very nearly started kicking and screaming, but at the last minute I remembered that I was Matsumoto Rangiku and Matsumoto Rangiku does not kick and scream. Well, often.

"Put me down."

"No."

"I don't want you touching me. Put me _down_."

He started to flash step in the direction we'd came from, ignoring me. In turn I ignored him. Or tried to at least, but it was a hard thing to do when the man you love but can't have is holding you in his arms. So I ended up incredibly subdued, staring softly up at his face, his clenched jaw as I tried desperately to ignore the ring digging into my back.

After about ten minutes of his huge shūnpo steps, we came across some nomads who were all too happy to give us a few blankets and a space in once of their tents (for a price, of course. I have no idea where that camel came from).

I pretended to be asleep so we wouldn't have to make conversation. Not that he ever made conversation anyway.

I struggled not to stiffen and give myself away as a hand reached out to stroke my hair before sliding down the side of my face. That damnable ring kissed my cheek.

"I hate you," I said softly.

"I know." A pause. "I am sorry."

"I don't care." I dragged the covers over my head. "It's not enough."

"I know."


	4. Babble

_Regurgitating a well-trod theme from The Stage. Hope you enjoy regardless._

_I'm writing her differently, I think. A little more silly. Just thought I'd give it a shot, see how it turns out. I'm thinking of separating these into separate stories to boost the popularity of Rangiku/Byakuya. Whadya think?_

xXx

Unforgivable. That's what it was. Completely and utterly unforgivable.

I mean, really. Matsumoto Rangiku doesn't fall in _love_. I should know, considering she is me.

Wait, what? I'm confusing myself. Well if _you'd_ just had sex with Kuchiki Byakuya, you'd be confused too. Trust me, the man does this thing with his hips and your mind just disappears.

Not that you're allowed to find that out, of course. Why? Because, uh, he's mine?

So no, it's not the sex that's unforgivable – in fact it's rather pleasant if I do say so myself (and I do). Rather more than pleasant actually. As I mentioned, I seem to have fallen in love. And I'm not happy about it.

Who in their right mind would be? Oh I'm sure falling in love in _general_ is lovely but really. For a first-timer you'd think life (or death, as it were) would have given me something a little less complicated.

Yes, that's right! I've never been in love before, and don't look at me like that. Contrary to over-popular belief, Gin and I never even bedded each other let alone fell in love. Sane people make a habit of staying _out_ of a sibling's bed.

Of course it's hard to use that argument when taking into account the fact that neither Gin nor I were ever considered particularly sane. But shinigami are practically required to have a few screws loose anyway,

What was I saying?

Oh right. Gin and me, never lovers. Never in love. Not even in _lust_, really and that's how it started off with Byakuya and I.

Well, me at least. I've no idea how it started for him – that man is the _toughest_ nut to crack although I think I've done a fairly good job, all things considered. Knowing how he feels _now_ is prize enough for me.

I probably shouldn't use that word though. Prize. It makes this whole relationship sound like a game and if there's one thing I've learnt over the centuries, it's that it's best not to play games with people's hearts.

What's unforgivable? Byakuya. Byakuya making me fall in love with him and loving me back. I'm still not happy about that you realise, blissful as the feeling is.

Why?

Silly question. Everyone knows you don't need reason or logic when dealing with _love_. Although if I had to narrow it down, I'd probably say the fact that I'm pregnant with his love-child and he won't even get into a half-decent argument with me about the situation.

Well, that's what I'd _say_. I'll leave it up to you whether to believe me or not.

xXx

_No idea where this came from, but I hope it was at the very least amusing._


End file.
